


worship like a dog

by SHOOTMEBABY



Series: the fool and the devil [5]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Arguing, Bisexual Disaster Mirage | Elliott Witt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Revenant Being Revenant (Apex Legends), Revenant Being an Asshole (Apex Legends), Sad Mirage | Elliott Witt, Sins, Song: Take Me To Church (Hozier), Touch-Starved Revenant (Apex Legends)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHOOTMEBABY/pseuds/SHOOTMEBABY
Summary: This confession threatens a laugh in Revenant, "So you think you're bad because you kill and sometimes you like it?" he asks, condescending as he turns his head. He's fixing his gaze on him, "What do you think I am then?"
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Revenant
Series: the fool and the devil [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921351
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	worship like a dog

**Author's Note:**

> this took far too long
> 
> heavily inspired by take me to church by hozier lmaoaoa  
> im tired just appreciate me please
> 
> more mirevage bc its all i know 
> 
> unedited as always

Silence crept through the home that the two legends shared, the usually chaotic abode of Elliott and Ramya, or more famously known as Mirage and Rampart. Of course it was more chaotic at the beginning when Rampart first moved into the complex while she looked for a place to stay, neither of them were overly fond of the idea but they certainly made do, despite the needless bickering and debates that sometimes went on; They were good friends anyway, or decent friends, maybe good friends was an overstatement but Mirage believed decent friends was a bit harsh, crude, as if the title was actually important but it was things like that in which he overthought. All the lights were dim, switched off, the duo who made a home there were in their rooms, presumably sleeping but Mirage found he couldn’t - No, not with their guest in his room. 

A thin mechanical figure sat at the end of his bed, a mechanical ball intertwined with his fingers as he played idly with it. He doesn’t even need to try to look intimidating for him to give a knot of anxiety in Elliott’s stomach, eyes would shut tiredly for moments at a time before opening to squint, making out the slender man at his feet. Advanced components within Revenant’s chassis hummed, like the sound of a fan, giving calming white noise but nonetheless, Mirage was anything but calm. He swore if he allowed his guard to fall that Revenant would turn on him. 

Alas, it was the trickster’s idea to invite the simulacrum over and Rampart insisted that he stayed with Mirage for the night. 

It didn’t occur to him once that it’d make him this anxious.

See, Mirage grew fond of Revenant over their time in the ring, fighting side by side as legends, even against each other. They had their own running skit, banter to lighten a bad mood — At least it was banter for Mirage, not so much the sim — It entertained the fans but also entertained Mirage, making a grin force on his face at the thought of it. For reasons that Revenant refused to elaborate on, even with countless begging and whining from the man, he needed somewhere to stay and to no surprise, none of the other legends would take him, not like he would even go to them for help. He certainly wouldn’t. Mirage was a special case because quite frankly who would actually believe him if he said the murder bot went asking him for help? Mirage was famously known as a trickster too after all. Ramya didn't buy it however, suspicious of the simulacrum. All he needed was a psychiatrist, he didn't need somewhere to stay but Mirage persisted and she gave in, maybe it'd be fun.

It would be a lie if Revenant was to claim Mirage didn’t entertain him. Nervous glances and fiddling hands, awkward forced laughter, something about that fear was subtle and adoring. It was different from the tension that radiated from the rest of their colleagues who were obviously doing what they could to pretend to tolerate him without making a show of it. 

Even now, he could hear the gentle movement of covers each time Mirage opened his eyes to look at him, tilting his head into the pillow. 

“Looking for something?” The simulacrum finally speaks, his voice deep and loud as it shatters the blissful silence. 

It gets Mirage to tense, staring back at Rev’s face as he looks over his shoulder at the resting man. The knot in his stomach squeezes, almost wanting to puke. He doesn’t get why he’s so anxious around Revenant now, he thought he was pretty calm and used to the sly figure, unexpected gestures and grim comments. Something about his figure lingering over the end of his bed, knowing how vulnerable he would be to sleep, he couldn’t really tell if he admired or feared him more, he nearly worshipped the sim — Heaven forbid he ever admitted that, it’d do more than stroke the bot’s ego, he had enough of a God complex, he'd never get off his high horse if he found out how Mirage felt — His entire life was under Revenant’s control at any time, death would be so simple if the sim deemed that necessary and sometimes Mirage would more than let him. Dying to his hands felt like a gift almost, he didn’t know why. Maybe he should get therapy, liking Revenant in general would lead to someone needing therapy. It gets his hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, threatening a shudder but he doesn’t. 

Pressing his elbows into the mattress and putting his weight onto them, he speaks, “N- No, you’re distracting. I can’t sleep with…” Pause. His nose scrunches thoughtfully, “You know, with you sitting there all- all creepy and stuff.”

Revenant emits a thoughtful hum, his hands stop playing with his silencer and he sits still.

“Would you rather I snuggle up beside you like a little baby and sleep with you?” 

It’s almost a threat, it’s degrading.

Mirage’s face grows hot, giving Revenant complete satisfaction, he shakes his head with a huff, pulling his covers up over his chest as he sits up better, not perching himself with elbows. He hesitates to answer, “G- Gee, yeah, I know I’m irresistible, even for a murderbot like you but I’m not a baby!” He retorts, pursing his lips and giving a playful glare, it anxiously falls apart at the lack of reply. 

Revenant complies, looking back at his hands to tampering with the mechanical ball. 

He would get what he asked for, he wants him to leave him alone? Fine. 

Robots didn’t get tired but being programmed to feel certain emotions, he got what felt like being tired was. Emotionally tired, one could put it, he just fed it with gorey pictures and envisioning his own hands soaked in blood, quietly observing these images he paints. The little H on his hand triggering a wave of annoyance, claws gripping around his toy. It was such a petty reminder of who he belonged to, he didn’t want to belong to anyone and if anything he was trying to destroy Hammond, there was no way to remove that mark though. Permanently etched into his metal and all the other bodies to come. Whether or not Revenant liked it, he was attached to that brand name for the rest of eternity. That ached.

Mirage watches, trying to figure out what he might be thinking but it's near impossible with the stoic expression and silence. Rev was never one for expressing things. He sighs, his lips thinning and eyes drifting away into the darkness of the room, thinking quietly. His fondness for the simulacrum was tearing him apart from the inside, it felt like it was physically ripping him up, with every churn of his stomach and heaviness on his chest, he was kind of revolted with himself. He felt dirty, like a sinner — It didn't feel like there was any good left in him, especially after dropping to this low, yearning for Revenant. It was a guilt like he was worshipping the devil despite knowing how disgustingly wrong it was. 

Without really thinking too hard about it, Mirage shifts up in the bed, crawling closer to Revenant. Subconsciously his hand slides to fix the way his shirt hung over his shoulders while he moved by Revenant's side, messy curls falling out of place, capturing his attention with the shuffling of bedsheets and approaching figure. Mirage is anything but stealthy like Rev was. 

His hands still again, turning his face to look at Mirage, orange optics are thin and there's the tiniest tilt to his head, chin dipping into the soft fabric of his headscarf. 

"Rev," his voice is sleepy, nearly a question as he lays down again, upside down in his bed. His cheek pressed into his arms, crossed in front of him and under his head. He's just beside the sim's leg. Revenant's hand twitches at the nickname but regardless, he listens. "You would know a lot about bad people, right? I mean… You're like the threat- treatch- treacher- You're the scary big bad murder bot! You're like one of the- the bad guys. Not to say you're bad, you're‐ Yeah you're not bad! A little rough around the edges..." 

Revenant still silently listens, taking caution to every word that escapes soft lips. He doesn't respond to the rambling that trails off. Even Mirage doesn't realise how much he's talking, so caught up in his own thoughts, giving himself more time and reason to delay this question.

"Am I a bad person?" 

This question snaps Revenant out of the near trance-like-state, the aimless rambling got him to zone out, the condescending stare relaxing at this unexpected enquiry. Dreading silence lingers, getting Mirage to tense, did he say something wrong? Was this awkward? Was Revenant even listening this entire time? His brow screws upwards, staring into the abyss of the room, dark and blank, unknowing of what else could be sharing the room, if there was anything else. He's too nervous to look at the simulacrum, besides the way he lay on his stomach, face in his own arms, looking up at the red and silver bot wasn't comfortable. 

His worries are shut down as a laugh vibrates from Revenant, hollow and short. "I don't think you could do something bad if you tried," he remarks. Not really a compliment, although it depended on how you looked at it — However the devil found no threat in the pagan, he didn't think Mirage was capable of anything intentionally bad, not without feeling overwhelming guilt afterwards. Even the tone in his voice showed that, he was scared of being a bad person, wasn't he? Humans were sad. Revenant however, as Mirage put it, was the bad guy, he knew that. Sometimes that ate him from the inside out, the fact all he was was this vessel, built to do nothing but murder but even still, once was he a hitman despite being human so truly, he was just born sick. It felt that way anyways. 

Mirage turns his head to the side, still resting on his forearms but he has a chance to glance up at the sim above him, eyes resting on the fabric around the plating of his thigh. Lips part in a slight 'o' to speak but he can't come up with a retort.

Silence once again. 

Revenant decides that's his cue, "Why, skinbag? What sins have you got to take off your chest?"

The sim can't believe that Mirage could even begin to guess that he's a bad person, compare the two of their lives side by side and if anything — Elliott Witt was an angel.

Mirage shrugs, mumbling something incoherent then shifting his face to look the other way. It irritates Revenant, humans had a tendency to bring up something only to dismiss it and change the subject and it was irritating. His hand balls into a fist with his silencer in it. 

“Go on,” He urges although it’s a threat, clear annoyance to his voice as he encourages him. 

This gets the human by his side to roll with a grunt, moving onto his back. He’s staring at the ceiling but also has a better view of Revenant and doesn’t have to shift his body to see him anymore which is undeniably more comfortable to lay. He thinks for examples to use albeit even he struggled to find his reasoning, it was just underlying guilt that sat under his skin, similar to the way the simulacrum could get under ones skin and make a home there, almost making them a puppet to his ways. 

Mirage preferred to live ignorantly, if there was a problem it wasn’t his problem unless he or someone he had an attachment to was directly involved. Revenant was a murderer and to put it shortly, he was a monster, not an inch of guilt rest despite the crimes he committed but also didn’t deny a damned thing. He was more than honest, an open book that no one wanted to read really. He found pleasure in death, he would be one to laugh during a funeral at feckless words that mourning family members preached out of dismay and regret. That was something Mirage admired; Without a doubt he should not have. He ignored Revenant’s sinful actions, dagger-like-words that were spat to other legends, he played it as banter and a joke but by not stopping it, wasn’t he his accomplice? Revenant was just an example though. There were an immeasurable amount of times Mirage let something slide without consideration of how much worse that would make it. See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, that didn’t mean there was no evil. He felt bad for that.

Sometimes during the games, the draw of sticky red liquid, wince and yelps of victims and the pull of a trigger became exciting — It was an adrenaline rush. It felt so dishonourable, when he got carried away and it hit him like a truck what he was doing to people he grew bonds with (even if it was part of the games) his breath would hitch and hands would shake, heaviness in his chest made it hard to breathe and he wished he could drop the gun and keep it away from him but this was Mirage. Nothing got Mirage down, not in public, he would push through with a dorky quip and a lopsided grin, wink and an entertaining gesture but geez, the fans loved it. That's all that mattered.

Was he a bad person for believing that fame and money was all that really mattered? He rather lose it all before he showed off how he truly felt.

Soft eyes staring up at Revenant grow weary, his lips in a thin lining, pulling into a frown, his chest falls slowly with a dragged out sigh, in exasperation and defeat, "I've done bad things to people, I didn't get to this… Like, this level alone, y'know?" he begins, "I've stepped on others to get to where I am and I feel really fake, it's all Mirage is so hot and Mirage is so perfect and wise and 'I love Mirage!' but I'm not really Mirage. That sounds dumb, er… I'm- I don't know, I'm Elliott. No one thinks about Elliott and how Elliott feels and that upsets me but I don't want them to think about Elliott either so I'm getting mad at people for something they can't control!" 

It's nearly confusing, the way he refers to himself and his absurdity of uncertainty when a sentence comes to an end. It irritates Revenant but at the same time, he feels sympathy for him, it's brittle and suppressed but he thinks he understands. He remains silent, trying to figure out how this leads to the conclusion of Elliott being a bad person, it was a ridiculous thought but the sim was no stranger to self-loathing, he would understand.

With the pressuring silence, Mirage feels obligated to keep talking, "Sometimes… Sometimes when- Ah, I don't know, Rev," he sputters out, giving an anxious glance only to realise the sim isn't even looking at him anymore, "Sometimes in the games I kinda enjoy the killing, the fight, the adrenaline, it's like a sugar rush almost."

This confession threatens a laugh in Revenant, "So you think you're bad because you kill and sometimes you like it?" he asks, condescending as he turns his head. He's fixing his gaze on him, "What do you think I am then?"

Mirage eyes widen, nearly in surprise, his mouth cracking open at the comment, hands raised defensively, giving off a type of jazz hands. "Hey buddy! I don't think you're bad! You just… You're…" He can't think of a way to stop Revenant from killing him. "You just wanna have a good time! I wanna have a good time… I'm desperate for a good time, all I want is a good time. I'd be a slave if it meant I could have a good time! But — What was I saying?" He pauses after his ramble, upsetting and guilty thoughts suddenly hitting him. He grinds his teeth into each other.

A new kind of emotion, something strange and painful but not like a burning, about to burst at the seams — It's a stinging feeling, slight and barely there but it creeps up. A sickening worry and guilt almost, he looks closer at Mirage, it's a subtle glance though. He hears the tremble in words and can see his jaw tense and it's a sad sight to see. Like a sick puppy, you don't want it to be sad but what can you really do? It angers him, his inability to help but it also has this grim, soothing effect. He was seeing what Elliott really was, not just the fear behind his eyes but the insecure, emotional man behind it. He felt like a priest having sins confessed and what really seals the deal is the crack of a sob and plea.

"I- I'm not a bad person, right?" Mirage asks, hands pressing over his face to hold back tears and hide a frown, his voice is soft and shaky. 

Revenant doesn't do anything, only looks at the back of his hands as he thinks. What can he do to help? Does he even want to help? Maybe he could just leave. This silence is shattering to Mirage though who twists onto his stomach only to sit up now, on his knees. 

"You‐" His own stuttering interrupts him, "You- Think I'm a bad person, Rev, don't you?"

Revenant grows uncomfortable, uncertain. No, he didn't think the human was even close to a bad person, actually he couldn't be something bad if he tried, it was actually pathetic but the overwhelming emotions being expressed is entirely new to him, it’s alien. His awkward silence only leads to Mirage breaking into further rambling. 

“I’m sick, God… I’m beginning to enjoy murder and- and, a man. A man! I’m supposed to be a lady charmer but I catch feelings for both? I can’t keep hiding that from people, I-I don’t want people to think I’m weird — Oh if I think that’s bad what will they think when they find out I’m not just falling in love with a man but I’m falling in love with the murderbot everyone hates!” 

Revenant’s head snapped to Mirage who just realised what his own words were, an expression of shock and regret, lips formed a soft ‘o’ and his eyes widened, locked onto the ceiling. Did the human actually mean that? He couldn’t comprehend it. Mirage summed him up perfectly, the murderbot everyone hates, who knew everybody's disapproval and reveled in it; How exactly had he grown so fond of him? It was kind of sweet to hear, probably the sweetest thing he was ever going to hear but he unquestionably felt weird about it. Stoic eyes were locked onto Mirage’s puzzled expression, confusion sitting on the sim while regret drained Mirage and his will power, nearly taking the life out of him, emotionally of course. This was awkward.

“I- I- Rev! Sorry, I’m sorry,” He apologises, using his elbows then hands to hoist himself up, kneeling by his side. “I’m sorry — Can we… Forget that happened? You- Y- You didn’t hear anything!” His hands reach to Rev’s shoulder, cold and hard under his hand. The change in surfaces makes him flinch his hand back faintly. A frown on his lips that he merged into a weak smile. 

Revenant’s eyes follow, wary of the contact on his shoulder but it doesn’t take him long to forget about it. “Okay, skinsuit,” He finally musters out, looking away to raise to his feet, getting up off the bed. He wasn’t one to take orders but if the human wanted him to ‘forget it’, he would. Well, he wouldn’t, it was impossible to; That piece of information, that memory, carved into his software. 

It’s only the sudden hand on his wrist pulling him back, warm and gentle, more deprecatory words departing his mouth. “I’m sorry, I-I know I just made shit really weird, you probably think I’m such a fucking idiot, sorry,” He doesn’t downright know what he’s frantically apologising for, maybe he just wants to be told he’s not a bad person or that he didn’t fuck up. Or maybe it’s that he does want to be told what he says is right, a masochistic mindset, wishing for a reason to self-loathe. Revenant is hesitant though, the hand that’s grabbed by Mirage is curled into a ball now, tense. 

It’s testing Revenant’s patience, he was usually the confronter but this felt like he was being confronted. Emotions he didn’t know he could feel were being felt.

A whimper of a sentence spills out of Mirage’s lips again only to be immediately interrupted by Revenant spinning on his heels, facing the man. In the moment he pulls close, a hand grabbing his hair, sliding through then gripping tightly, curls tangled around steel claws. He tilts his head up, pressing his own dangerously close to his, “Yes, I get it — You’re sorry,” he reprimanded, his guttural voice bellowed, low and husky.

“Tell me, Elliott, do you think I care?” He questions, it’s threatening. His hand tugging on hair aggressively, receiving a yelp from the near broken hearted Mirage. 

It’s all a shock to Mirage, barely processing what just happened and the sudden turn in emotions.

In all honesty, this was more of a guise for what Revenant felt. Aggravated by the feelings this man was beginning to spark, questioning himself and making him doubt his own capabilities. The fear behind brown eyes was almost reassuring, making him feel like he hadn’t gotten soft and his ability to inflict fear on humans remained. He could kill Mirage if he so wanted, it was a matter of if he wanted to. 

“N- No,” meekly stutters the once buoyant voice. 

“Yeah, so shut it,” Revenant demands, yanking at brown locks again until he drags a tangled hand out. 

Relief washes over Mirage with this, the pain easing on his scalp but his stomach still twists and turns at the anxiety clawing at his stomach. He doesn’t know what to say but that’s fine because Revenant starts talking, stepping away and looking at his own hand, studying it in the air. His gaze draws over his palm then to the logo on the other side before it snaps together, forming his own kind of knife. 

“Stop preaching your apologies and confessions to me, I’m not your God. I’m Death.” 

What is Mirage supposed to say to this? Slumping down and pulling his own legs out from under him so he’s no longer kneeling, he’s closer to the edge of the mattress now. Too nervous to glance up the golden optics which were kind of their main light source right now, not to say his eyes hadn’t long adjusted with the darkness of the room, behind curtains was the night easing but still thick as ever. Dark and cold. He fears for his own life at the stronger of the two, a blade like hand hovering threateningly, his own fingers are curled into the sheets of the bed, nervously rubbing his thumb against the fabric. 

“I’m sorry-” He blurts out, only to regret it immediately, “I-I mean…” 

His words are cut off by Revenant taking hold again, his free hand wrapped around his throat, not squeezing yet. He just holds this position, the weapon on his other hand points close to his face. “You skinbags never listen, don’t make me shut you up myself,” he growls, Mirage shutting his eyes at the contact. His body shakes and tenses, bracing himself for pain. “Look at me when I’m talking,” he insists.

Mirage opens his eyes, still just as tense. Shoulders shrugged up as if to protect his neck but it was a little too late for that, a claw already pressed against it. 

“What do you want? To accept your apology, assure you on how good of a person you wish you were?” His words sting Mirage but it gets his truthful annoyance out. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell Mirage, what does he expect? “I much rather punish you for it, if I was a God I wouldn’t just forgive and forget. That gets you killed, only a fool would be so kind.” 

It takes a second to think and form a sentence, the looming figure of the sim was kind of attractive, the intensity of it was interesting to say the least but out of all the things it could have been, it was terrifying. 

“Please.. Do,” Mirage barely whispers out. It wasn’t what he planned to say but he settled on it last second, nearly surprised at what he just said, oh he was going to regret this, wasn’t he? 

It’s not just a surprise to himself, it shocks Revenant, twisting his synthetic mind and making him doubletake it. It frustrates him, pressing fingers in his neck now, actually starting to kind of choke Mirage. “You’re so weak, it’s pathetic,” The sim hisses, shaking his head, it’s disgusting the lows a human being could sink to. “Stand up for yourself, what are you accusing yourself of being a bad person for? Are you really that privileged that you have to find a reason to hate yourself?” 

Like tearing off a scab, it hurt but it was satisfying. Something he wanted to hear, a hand reaching to wrap around his wrist, squeezing it tightly, fingernails dug into the fabric wrapped around metal. It’s still possible to breathe but the adrenaline rush of it all was taking his breath away. His brow furrows and he shuts his eyes again, swallowing at the worry of it, it was difficult but he managed.

Mirage felt like this was well deserved and not in a good way whatsoever, punishment for his crimes. Maybe he was making a sacrifice if the simulacrum decided not to spare him. Maybe without him, the legends would be happier and maybe all that he was worth would be handed to his mother and she could get the treatment he needed. The overwhelming terror of dying though was at the back of his mind, he just tried to focus on his self-deprecation. 

Revenant on the other hand was frustrated and letting it out on the trickster, complaining of how vile it was to hear someone so perfect try to hate themselves. Punishing himself despite doing nothing wrong. Mirage thought he had it hard? He’d show him what it was like to have it hard. It was infuriating and quite frankly, everything about humans annoyed him. Revenant had murdered so many humans, he was a reaper of people’s lives and he gave no mercy to a single being, he wasn’t even nice enough to give a quick death, no, it was long, gorey and he did nothing but inspire pain but the human who had been a little inconsiderate and enjoyed his career thought he was bad? Ridiculous.

With thin eyes, Revenant let out a simulated sigh, it rattles his components, “Pathetic."

His hand eases up on his throat as Mirage started to find it more and more problematic to breathe, face going red. He huffs and coughs at the release, rubbing sore skin with his hand. He's pathetic and stares down, like a puppy being scolded. Too afraid to make eye contact, tears threatening his eyes. 

Revenant stares pitifully, crossing his thin arms. His shoulders shrugged, shifting his headscarf slightly as he glances away, back to square one of the awkwardness. 

It remains like this for a brief moment until arms are wrapped around his waist and a head presses against his upper abdomen, his arms lifting and attempting to step back but Mirage has a tight embrace on him. Mechanics are hidden under fabric on the sims abdomen, it's certainly not the most luxurious place to rest. Both of the men had been void of a hug for some time, it lifts a weight off their shoulders, feeling comfortable in the moment. He's hesitant but Revenant returns the embrace, a hand pressing to the back of his head and soothingly stroking while the other wraps around his shoulders. He chin tilted down so he has a good view of his companion, eventually shutting his eyes to soak in the ecstasy of it. The silence returns but it's no longer awkward, like silence apologies being passed back and forth with each touch, metal on skin, skin on metal.

This situation had in fact escalated, beginning at Elliott Witt only trying to sleep, to the breakdown and venting and confessing of broken words, now the situation decays and is subtle, calm. He'd offer his life to the sim but was more than thankful to be spared, it's almost like this was his lovers sick game, he certainly had humour but it was twisted and grim; Fucked up, to put in layman's terms. 

Nevertheless, no matter how fucked up this was, he loved it. 

"I'll be good." Mirage whispers.

Hands gripping tightly to keep a hold on the sim, begging him to hold it a little longer. 

"I'm sorry, Rev," he mutters out, pressing his cheek against metal, "I know you- I know you- I know you said to stop but I just — You're — I d- I don't-" his incoherent rambling is halted by a long, sharp hush. It's dragged out, nearly soothingly but it gets Mirage to shiver. 

Revenant didn't want to hear another apology, broken and desperate rambling from the man was better put to rest. He just wanted the night to fall quiet and Mirage see the truth.

"I forgive you," the sim confesses, stern and cold but genuine. 

He doesn't want Mirage to apologise and he willingly accepts the fact he is sorry and nothing was going to change that besides brittle words of affirmation. 

It's a surprise to Mirage, never expecting such an emotional and truthful response; Something nice for once. He pulls his head from against Revenant and looks up at him, the other opening his eyes too with the movement against his chest. They're almost sharing a confirmation with the gazes they exchanged. Mirage still felt like he didn't quite hear that right, maybe he fell asleep long ago and he was dreaming. He hoped not… 

"You're not a bad person. You're just an idiot," Revenant continues. His automated voice is harsh but his words are gentle.

His hand reaches to cup Mirage's cheek as their gazes are locked, his thumb running across his cheek, threatening to wipe away any tears that may or may not fall, "It's okay to be afraid," he assures, hushed and soothing, almost scary. "You can't help it that you're a skinbag." 

Mirage nods, confirming he was listening. His grip loosened as Revenant pulls away, disappointed with the sudden leave but it's sparked again. Revenant changing his mind on completely ending this and instead shifting their position, pinning Mirage back to the bed, Mirage laying down and him hovering over Mirage, a mechanical hum pleasantly vibrating from his chassis until he reaches for what seemed like a kiss, cold lips meeting delicate ones, both their eyes shutting and relaxing. It's sweet and calming. Revenant felt undeniably uncertain about it but he was getting carried away in the passion, feeling hands trail up his back and resting on his neck. Mirage felt like a dog, being addicted to the sim at any sign of affection and gentleness, nothing was sweeter than seeing something so icy and dangerous becoming cozy and human. 

They were both so human. 

Revenant pulls away after time, Mirage giving a desperate sigh at lack of affection. 

"Sleep, skinbag," He suggests, sharply but quieter than before. He shifts his weight, mechanics clicking momentarily as he readies to get off. 

The grab of his scarf, pulling back and the sudden response gets his movements to stutter, looking at Elliott. 

"I revel- reeveal- Shit… I reevaluate your offer, c-can you sleep with me?" He asks, less serious now as his chin tilts up, head pushing back into bedsheets as he gets a good look of Revenant's silver and red face. His own face turning red, hot, with the realisation of how that sentence sounded. "I mean! Not like that, who said it was like that!? I'm just- t- tired — Not that I'm turning you down or anything-"

Revenant presses a kiss to his lips, unexpected and shutting him up. "Just shut up, skinsuit," he orders, nuzzling his forehead into Mirage's now. He lingers there before they both part and shift their positions, laying into the bed side by side, limbs tangled with each other in a comforting hold. A robotic body wasn't the most comforting, cold and jagged but it warmed up with human touch against it and to put simply, Mirage was starved off comfort and more than faithful to this new found friendship or romance. It was uncertain to tell but his mind stopped, sinking into the serenity, gentle whirring from the simulacrum. Revenant did just the same, torso pressed into the heat of the cushioned body, he wasn't tired, he didn't quite get tired but it was the kind of cozy where he wished he could peacefully rest and he did just that. The weeks before seeming more and more bleak but this was new. 

After minutes of silence, holding the sleeping Elliott, Revenant mutters one last thing, "Good boy."

**Author's Note:**

> that was a rollercoaster cool


End file.
